Untouchable
by Pyra250
Summary: It's the summer before their 7th year at Hogwarts and the trio are holed up in the Burrow with their old friends. But there's something in the air that wasn't there before  love. FredHermione fic.
1. Chapter 1

**Credit: **I don't own any of the characters in this fanfiction. They are property of JK Rowling.

**Author's Note:** I don't usually write long fanfictions, I like to stick mostly with one-shots, so we'll see how this one goes, I suppose. It's not exactly my type of fic in either case, but someone wanted me to write it, so here we go.

**May contain spoilers for Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows**

The hot, lazy sun presided delicately over the summer days. School was out finally; it was the perfect time for pranksters to hone their skills, and Fred and George certainly hadn't missed a beat.

Of course, mischief wasn't the only thing floating around in the stifling heat. This second presence was certainly subtler than the other, and more compelling once detected. It was love, and it was the furthest thing on anyone's mind as they settled into the burrow.

The door slammed loudly, followed by the bellow of laughter; Fred and George just always had to make their presence known.

"Mornin', Mum," one of them called as they entered the kitchen to scrimmage for food.

"Morning, George," Mrs. Weasley answered, flicking her wand and sending a number of plates flying to the table.

"He isn't George," the other twin chimed in. "_I_ am. And you call yourself our mother." He shook his head in disappointment, helping his brother gather snacks to stock their room with.

"Oh, I'm sorry, George," Mrs. Weasley apologized, slightly flustered at the mishap.

"Just kidding, Mum," the second twin confessed as they moved towards the doorway. "He really _is_ George."

The Weasley twins ducked around the corner in a fit of laughter, half expecting to hear some sort of kitchen utensil hitting the wall behind them. To their disappointment, the only response was a small, hopeless groan from Mrs. Weasley.

"You'd think that after all this time she'd catch on," George sighed, leading the way towards the stairs.

"I know," Fred agreed as he mirrored his twin's movements. "She makes it too easy, really. Spoils all the fun. If I didn't know any better I'd say it's almost getting—old."

The pair stopped suddenly at the top of the stairs, exchanging brief glances of amusement at what they saw. Ron was at the end of the hall, bent over inspecting something that glinted brightly in the sunlight.

George held up a finger to indicate that his brother should be quiet, though it was pointless; Fred was already crouched low and ready for the stealth attack. While George hung behind silently, Fred snuck up closer to his brother. It took all the will power he had to resist kicking him in the bum.

Without making a noise, he pulled one of the drawers open in the small desk that was in front of Ron. The young Weasley didn't notice anything. This was perfect. Almost _too_ perfect, but the twins had never let that stop them before.

Fred winked and gave his brother an okay signal, pulling away slowly to rejoin him just down the hall.

"Shiny objects do it for you, do they Ron?" George asked loudly as soon as Fred was back at his side.

Ron started, jumping and—WHAM—his head collided with the drawer. "Bloody Hell!" he shouted, clutching his head in agony. A string of the finest cuss words followed, earning him a sharp, "RONALD WEASLEY!" from Mrs. Weasley downstairs.

Fred and George were doubled over in laughter, doing their best just to stay on their feet.

"Really, Ron," George choked out through chuckles, "you should've seen yourself."

"You know what they say about people who are entertained by shiny objects," Fred added as he gasped for air.

"Yeah, well I still have more brains than you two numbskulls," Ron snapped, still rubbing his head gently.

'I seriously doubt it. I'd give you half a brain at best," George answered promptly, pausing from his laughter to seize this new opportunity to torment his younger brother. He paused, considering Ron thoughtfully, before amending, "Okay, maybe a quarter."

"And even if we only had a quarter of a brain each—," Fred resumed.

"Which, I assure you, we've got more than that," George interjected pointedly.

"—then we'd still have more brains than you because we're twins—."

"—and twins _always_ get lumped together," George concluded.

Fred paused, furrowing his brow as he thought for a moment. Turning to George, he asked, "Why _is_ that?"

George hesitated. "I don't know," he answered as if this was a stunning new revelation. "You know, it's like—."

"—like they don't think we can think on our own—," Fred picked up, "—and it's downright—."

"—despicable, it is!" George finished, smacking his fist into the palm of his other hand to emphasize the fact.

"_You're_ despicable," snapped a voice from behind them, causing the twins to turn around curiously.

"Oh, Hermione, don't be silly," George cooed. "You're just jealous."

"You want us—," Fred began before his brother cut in adding, "badly". "Yes, you want us badly, but you simply can't have us, and that drives you crazy. You couldn't have us even if you tried."

"And _why_ would I want to do _that_?" Hermione sneered. Her hand balled into a fist, coming to a stop beside where her wand was hidden in her robe. The twins weren't sure which was more dangerous, but they weren't about to find out either.

"Because we're _irresistible_," George answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. He and Fred turned and strutted into their room, simultaneously humming the tune to "I'm Too Sexy" before closing the door on the world behind them.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:** Thanks to everyone who's taken the time to review this story! I always enjoy reviews. :) Alright, here's the next chapter. I'm not sure how long it'll take to write the next one after this seeing as how I'm doing some research for a novel I'm planning on writing, but I'll try to get it done as quick as possible.

Hermione was in a rather foul mood for the rest of the day. Whenever possible, she avoided the twins, and when she did chance to pass them she scowled. Once during dinner, she even sent the mashed potatoes flying at Fred's head when he'd been bold enough to ask her to pass them.

She wasn't quite sure what it was about what they said that bothered her. It certainly wasn't that they were right, Hermione constantly told herself. It was probably just that she didn't like being told she couldn't have something. Yeah, that was it. That _had_ to be it.

By the next day, Hermione managed to put the issue aside, and she was much friendlier for it. There was no killer food at the breakfast table, and she even wished Fred and George a good morning.

"Why is she in such a good mood this morning?" Ginny haphazardously dared to ask the twins.

"She finally came to her senses," George answered without missing a beat.

"Yeah, decided we were right and she's madly in love with us," Fred added eagerly, reading Hermione's face for any sign of a reaction. There was none; she continued to butter her toast like nothing had happened.

"Her and Fred are going to go get married at that place where all the muggles go. What's it called again?" George helped himself to another plate of bacon as he talked, heaping the strips onto his empty dish.

"Las Vegas?" Ginny offered, watching him doubtfully.

"Yeah, that's the one."

On the other end of the table, Hermione had decided she couldn't hold her tongue any longer. "You wish," she finally spat back.

"Now, now, Hermione," George answered, feigning a hurt, crestfallen expression, "why do you have to be like that? Besides, we're not talking about me, we're talking about _you_."

"I wouldn't marry him if he was the last man on Earth!"

"Would you marry me if I was the last_ woman_ on Earth?" Fred asked casually, taking a bite off the sausage that hung limply on his fork.

"No, Fred!" Hermione shouted, jumping to her feet. "I wouldn't marry you, _period_!" She turned and stormed out of the kitchen. The loud echo of her thumping up the stairs could be heard right before the slam of a door.

"Well, _that_ was rude," George frowned. "If she really wanted to call off the wedding, she could've been nicer about it."

"I wouldn't make her mad," Ginny advised the twins as he swallowed the last of his eggs. "And if you'd seen her deck Malfoy, _you_ wouldn't either."

"Yea, it was bloody brilliant," Ron chimed in, smiling as he recalled the moment. His grin grew even wider as he pictured Hermione doing the same to the twins.

Fred scowled as he watched his brother's expression change. "Ron, hasn't anyone ever told you that it's rude to wish harm on anyone?" he asked as if reading the boy's mind.

"Especially two such loving, devoted brothers as us. It's horrible how you treat us, and after all we've done for you," George agreed.

Ron almost choked on his bacon at the surprise of this. Once he safely swallowed his food, he glared at the twins and sneered, "All _you've_ done for _me_? Blimey, you make me nearly knock myself out—."

"—a misfortunate mistake, I assure you," George answered unconvincingly.

"—and then," Ron continued undeterred, "you upset 'Mione and _I_ have to listen to her for the rest of the evening!"

"Truly unfortunate for you, mate," Fred replied offhandedly, stacking his empty plate on top of George's.

"And you don't care a bit, do you?"

"Not at all," the twins replied in unison, putting their dirty dishes in the sink.

"But don't worry, Ickle Ronnie," George piped up as they were about to leave.

"We'll get her to admit it eventually," Fred continued, winking as they ducked out of the kitchen.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: **So I finally finished researching my novel (after a couple grueling days of skimming books and websites). Which means, unfortunately, that I probably won't update very quickly since I'll be writing that. Maybe once a week, maybe more. Depends. Thanks for all those that have taken the time to leave a review. I always love to read them, and I'd love to hear more from you:D Sorry if this chapter isn't as fun as the previous ones, but it was a necessary plot builder…I hope ya'll understand.

Hermione didn't understand just what it was about the twins that was getting to her. She stomped back and forth across her room, grumbling to herself about how childish they were acting. Her shoes made a loud clomping as she went from one side of the room to the next, making hand gestures in the air and every once in a while letting out a loud groan in annoyance.

The thing that bothered Hermione most was the extent of which Fred and George's teasing was getting to her. That's just what they wanted! Why was she getting upset over it?

"Ooh!" Hermione growled angrily, plopping down on her bed in frustration. "If I ever find a way of breaking them of their little jokes—I swear, I'm gonna—I'll—well, I suppose I'll have to—ooh!"

With a final snarl, Hermione leapt back onto her feet, clenching her fists at her side. "I'm gonna go give them a piece of my mind!" she declared to the empty room before angrily throwing open her door and marching down the hall.

Fred was kicking back in his room, feet up on the bed and leaning back in a desk chair. The two front legs were a good distance off the ground, but he was carelessly staring at the ceiling, hands behind head in a lounge pose.

The door suddenly slammed open, bouncing off the wall behind it. Fred—startled and slightly confused by the loud intrusion—tumbled over backwards in his chair, catching his head on the edge of the bed behind him.

Looking up on the ground, his annoyed expression shifted to amusement when he realized that it was just Hermione.

"S'ok, 'Mione. No need to ask if I'm ok or help me up or anything," he teased as he used a bedpost to pull himself back onto his feet.

"You!" Hermione screamed in response, not missing a beat. Her hand automatically flew up in front of her, pointing an accusing finger at the twin. "You are so aggravating—and annoying—and—and—so frustrating!"

Fred's smile grew with every word she stumbled over. "Now, Hermione, words hurt, you know," he replied, frowning slightly. "That's no way to tell someone you love them!"

"Argh!" Hermione marched forward, both her hands now by her side, clenching and unclenching dangerously. The movement was not unnoticed by Fred, who hesitated slightly, remembering what Ron had said over breakfast.

"Listen here, you!" Hermione rampaged. "I'll have you know—er—well—."

"You don't even know which twin I am, do you?" Fred asked playfully. "That hurts, it really does."

"It doesn't matter who you are!" was the dismissive answer. "It still applies. I'm tired of these games you keep playing! They aren't funny, they're infuriating."

"Define funny—and infuriating. Because I happen to think they're quite amusing." Fred loved this play. The more he talked the angrier Hermione seemed to get—and the closer. She was only a few steps away now, but if he played his cards right she'd fill in that gap in no time.

"This isn't a game!" Hermione snapped. Just as predicted, she began to move forward again. "You think it's so funny, but you've got no consideration for anyone else's feelings, and—and—."

Hermione was now standing only a half a foot away from Fred, looking up into his deep eyes. God how beautiful they were—why hadn't she noticed before? The words faltered as her train of thought was swept in an entirely different direction.

_Oh, God, what have I done_? Hermione thought to herself as she realized what she was thinking. She tore her eyes—painfully—away from his and skulked away, forgetting even to shout a final warning over her shoulder.

"Oi. I'm Fred, by the way!" Fred called after her, hoping she'd heard. He'd felt something as he stood there staring at her—he'd seen her in a different light, to say the least. And he was going to make damn sure he wasn't confused for George for once in his life.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: **I kind of got ahead of myself in the previous chapters. XD I've gone back and fixed them, but where I wrote Harry I meant Ginny. Sorry about the mishap. Anyway, I'm heading home from vacation today and I have no internet at my house until Wednesday when they're installing it, so this will be the last chapter I put up until then. Thanks to everyone who's taken the time to leave reviews as they read! It's really appreciated. :)

Before Fred could completely wrap his mind around what had happened, there was a loud ruckus from downstairs. Three pairs of feet plunged up the stairs, stampeding up the narrow passage as quick as they could to be the first to discover what was happening.

There was a very animated "OW!" followed by a loud THUD and "Bloody Hell!"

Fred's mind was still racing, thoughts running rampant as he tried to figure out his emotions. He was still drifting thru a haze of confusion when George erupted thru the doorway, followed closely by Ginny and Ron, all tripping over each other.

"We heard the yelling," George explained, leaning against a wall as he tried to catch his breath. "So naturally we felt we should investigate."

"Did she really chew you out?" Ginny asked eagerly.

"Not really," Fred replied simply, wishing they'd all just leave him alone to sort out his thoughts.

"Better yet, did she hit you?" Ron questioned hopefully, his face lighting up with the prospect. The hope, however, was replaced with a crestfallen scowl only a moment later as Fred told him, "No."

"Well, then what _did_ she do to you?" Ginny's tone was a bit frustrated; they were all looking for answers and they certainly weren't getting any.

"Nothing." Again, not what the trio was looking for, but the faint flicker of a grin that played across his lips certainly gave them the impression that there was more to it.

"Nothing as in there's really something, but you don't want to tell?" George inquired, even though he already knew the answer.

"Maybe."

"Ok, so what did _you_ do to _her_?" This time it was Ron who was trying to weasel out any small bit of information he could.

"Nothing."

"Another nothing that really means something?" It was posed as a question, but that's not the way Ginny had intended it. He already knew the answer, and the truth forced an amused smile to light a fire in his eyes that danced with laughter.

"Maybe." By this point, it was quite obvious that Fred was enjoying stringing them along, torturing them with his lack of details.

George frowned as he studied his reflection in his twin's face. An unpleasant thought seemed to have found its way into his mind and he was entertaining the possibility that it was true.

"You two didn't have a snogging fest in _my_ room, did you?" he finally voiced his concern with a suspicious glare.

"No, of course not," Fred denied quite clearly.

"You didn't have a snogging fest in _your_ room either, did you? Because I don't know if you'd noticed, but they're the same space."

Fred went to answer, but his response was interrupted by Mrs. Weasley bellowing up the stairs, "WEASLEYS! And Hermione, too. Family meeting!"

"Oi," George sighed, rolling his eyes. "I wonder if that means the entire family, or just those foolish enough to still admit they're related?"

As if in response, Mrs. Weasley's voice called out once more, "And that means you, too, Fred and George!"

Fred scowled as he trudged to the doorway just behind his younger siblings. "Why am I always called first?"

"Face it," George answered, trailing behind him, "she just likes you better."

"Or I'm just the one who always gets blamed," Fred growled in return, glancing over his shoulder at his brother. As he turned around he ran almost straight into—Hermione.

He started to smile as their eyes met, but before he could say anything she'd whisked her gaze away and stationed herself beside Ginny.

"Whatever you two did in the bedroom, I don't think she enjoyed it nearly as much as you did," George whispered in his ear.

Fred turned and took a swing at him—one meant to get the point across, yet not injure too bad—as he ordered, "Shut it."

The group fell quiet as they entered the living room. Not even the twins dared to continue their antics with Mrs. Weasley around.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: **Thanks to all my readers! I really appreciate all the reviews and everything. I'm always happy to hear your input! So this chapter is for all those that have taken the time to review this story or have PMed me about it. :) Thanks again!

Mrs. Weasley quickly corralled her children into the living room. Bill and Charlie were already there, as was Fleur. They must have apparated in just for this occasion.

"Sit, sit," she ordered, motioning the children to the various chairs that were scattered around the room.

Everyone obeyed; it would've been dangerous not to. Fred casually took a seat on the sofa beside Hermione, grinning at the poisonous look she cast him, though no words were exchanged.

"What's up, Mum?" George asked, plopping down onto the sofa beside Fred and propping his feet up on the coffee table in front of him.

"Well—there's something we have to do for the Order. I hate to involve you children, I really do—."

"In case you've forgotten, Mum, Fred and I are already in the Order," George interrupted to point out.

Mrs. Weasley glared at him. She never approved of them joining, and was even more distraught that they had joined despite her objections.

"Anyway," she continued, slowly lowering herself into a chair, "we've got to get Harry here somehow, and he's still got the Trace on him seeing as how he's underage yet." Mrs. Weasley paused, sweeping her gaze around the room to make sure everyone was following her. Hermione watched her intently as if trying to keep her mind off of something else. Fred's attention was most obviously on Hermione, pleased at not only her nervousness but also her closeness—and George was amusing himself with watching the pair. Ron was busying himself with something shiny he had in his hand, turning it this way and that to make the light dance off of it. Ginny was looking out the window behind her mother, her thoughts having drifted far away from the burrow at the first mention of Harry's name. Fleur was fawning over Bill overtly, and Bill was enjoying the attention. The only person who really seemed to be really paying attention was Charlie—and his vacant stare made it quite obvious that even he was elsewhere.

"And we can't afford to wait until he turns seventeen because then he will be even more vulnerable," Mrs. Weasley continued with a sigh, duly noting that she was more or less being completely ignored.

"So what are you suggesting?" Hermione asked eagerly, shifting over more in her seat to try to escape Fred. Much to her dismay, for every inch she moved over, he scooted two more inches in her direction.

"Well, the lot of us will go—one of you children with an Order member—and we'll use Polyjuice Potion. Hopefully they won't be able to figure out which is the _real_ Harry."

"He'll never go for it," Hermione stated.

"It's the only way. He doesn't have a choice, dear."

"So—you want _us_ to drink a potion in order to become Harry—," George started slowly, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

Fred sat up straighter, sensing his cue to cut in and continuing, "—and be the bait so that the _real_ Harry will get to his destination safely—."

"—all while risking life and limb for the greater good of wizard-kind?" George concluded, assuming a noble air as he finished up.

Mrs. Weasley looked a little frazzled at the wording. Her mouth opened unsurely, about to defend her position, when the twins simultaneously declared, "We're in!"

A look of relief flushed her face as everyone else followed their example, giving their consent to the plan.

"It's not like this'll be the first time we've risked our lives for Harry," Ron pointed out, flashing his small bobble towards Fred and George in an attempt to blind them. All he succeeded in doing was earning a couch cushion being thrown straight at his head.

"Then it's settled," Mrs. Weasley announced, standing up. "Be ready tomorrow night for this."

By this point, Fred was only a handful of inches away from Hermione, who looked disgusted at him even being this close. In truth, her breath caught in her throat every time she thought about it, but she couldn't admit this, could she? Especially not after making such a big deal about their teasing before. Besides, this would blow over. She was probably just—socially deprived. Yes, that was it. It'd been such a long time since she'd been in decent company that she was craving any attention she could get—even from Fred.

Fred, on the other hand, was wondering just how close Hermione would let him get. He liked pushing limits—he always had, obviously—but now he only toed the line because he felt such a strong desire to be close to her. Wait, what was he thinking? This was _Hermione_. How could he even _think_ such things about _her_ of all people? No, it was just a game. He loved to tease her and that was it. Nothing deeper than that, certainly not that he _liked_ her. Still, he inched even closer despite himself.

"Uh—can we leave yet?" Hermione asked hurriedly, surprising the rest of the room with her bluntness. "I mean—it's just that—I want to be prepared for tomorrow and I've got some things that I'd like to do."

"Yes, yes of course. You can all leave," Mrs. Weasley said distractedly.

Hermione was the first to rush out of the room, with Fred and George closely behind her.

"You scared her away, George," Fred whined, hitting his brother on the shoulder playfully. "How many times have I told you that your face is too scary to show in public?"

"_My_ face?" George asked, insult darkening his features. "What about _your_ face?"

"Everyone knows _I'm_ the better looking twin," Fred snapped as if it was as obvious as the sky being blue.

"Well, then why don't you tell _Hermione_ that?" George ribbed, grinning at the completely lost look on Fred's face at this remark. He knew his brother had no comebacks to that, and he led the way back up to their room in triumph.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: **Sorry it took so long for this update. I'm trying to keep writing regularly, but writing this and the novel at the same time is kind of hectic, along with the other responsibilities I have. Thanks for understanding. :D I'm looking forward to lots of reviews here!

The next day went rather passively. Everyone was dwelling on the imminent danger that the night had in store for them and there was very little room for anything else.

Hermione spent the day in her room, pouring over books as if they were the only thing that would help her survive. The rest of the household just moped around. Even Fred and George weren't their normal selves; there was no pranking to be heard of.

So when night fell, the whole household was more than ready. They'd spent all day fretting and preparing, so now they were pumped up and all set to undertake such a dangerous task.

"Now, everyone knows the plan, right?" Mrs. Weasley asked one last time, running her eyes over the group. They were full and wide, brimming with worry.

"No, Mum, there's some things I'm still unclear about," George piped up, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Are we supposed to be picking Harry up _before_ he turns seventeen? Because I'm just not sure if we were after you went over everything _a million times_!"

"I wanna know what _day_ it is," Fred groaned, standing up to stretch his legs. His muscles screamed in agony, pins and needles running up his body.

"Be serious for once in your lives," Mrs. Weasley snapped, furrowing her brow in anger.

"We were," the twins muttered simultaneously, both collapsing back onto the couch.

"Alright, if everyone's clear, let's be off."

---------------------------------

Before long, the group had found themselves in Private Drive, all bustling into the former Dursley residence. The family had just vacated the premises, which left the house feeling empty and bare.

Fred and George took seats beside each other—of course—and watched Harry intently. He'd grown up a lot since they'd last seen him. Then again, they all had.

They listened passively as Tonks proudly displayed her left hand, a ring gleaming on her ring finger. The twins were about to put their two cents' worth in when Moody beat them to it—abruptly changing the direction of the conversation to their reason for being there.

"Betcha it'll take another five minutes or so before Harry catches on," George whispered as Moody droned on in the background.

"I'd give it about ten. He seems a little slow tonight," Fred answered in an undertone.

"Yeah, but Moody's definitely pressing the issue quickly. He wants it to be an in-and-out job, so I don't think he'd wait that long."

"Then again, he's slow just about every day lately, isn't he?"

"So, we've given a dozen different houses every protection we can throw at them," Moody continued in the background.

"See? Definitely not beating around the bush, that one," George announced.

"You know, if I didn't know any better I'd say that he was even slower than you, George," Fred commented, glancing at his brother.

George merely stared at him blankly for a few moments before asking, "You're not listening to a word I'm saying, are you?"

"I'm sorry, _were_ you saying something?" A grin lit Fred's face as his brother banged his head against the table loudly.

George raised his head slowly, but only because it had gotten to the good part of the conversation—the part where Harry had already figured out what was going on and Moody was demanding his hair.

"You can't do it if I don't cooperate, you need me to give you some hair," Harry answered stubbornly.

"Well, that's a plan scuppered," George stated loudly, rolling his eyes as he brushed his red hair out of his face. "Obviously there's no chance at all of us getting a bit of your hair unless you cooperate."

"Yeah, thirteen of us against one bloke who's not allowed to use magic; we've got no chance," Fred added, putting an elbow on the table and lethargically leaning his head on his hand. Out of the corner of his eye, he could've sworn he saw Hermione smirk, but a second later it was gone. Must've just been a trick of the light.

Finally, Harry acquiesced to give a sample of his hair, which was very disappointing to the twins. They were kind of interested in what would have happened if they _were_ actually required to use force. Now they'd never find out.

The pair lined up with the others along the wall with the sink. Fred grinned when he received his bit of potion, holding it up to his brother in a toast before swallowing it down. He nearly choked as soon as it hit his throat. It took almost everything he had in him to keep from spitting it out again.

He felt the changes taking place. It was weird feeling his features melting and molding into someone elses', but Fred found it mildly amusing at the same time. After all, he could just imagine how strange it was for Harry to watch seven other people become him.

Soon as the transformation was done, Fred and George turned to each other. "Wow—we're identical!" they exclaimed in unison.

"I dunno, though, I think I'm still better-looking," Fred announced, examining his reflection in a nearby kettle.

George rolled his—well, Harry's—eyes and slapped his brother over the back of the head. Fred, being who he is, felt the need to return the gesture as well until the two had started a minor scuffle.

"Oi," Fred called out. "How's it feel, Harry, to watch yourself beat yourself up?"

Before they could get an answer, Mrs. Weasley had pulled the boys apart, scolding them as she pushed them to opposite sides of the room.

When all the commotion had died down, and they had received the proper clothes, glasses, and luggage, Moody began to give out the pairings. He got as far as "Arthur and Fred", motioning at a nearby Harry, when the subject in question announced indignantly, "I'm George. Can't you even tell us apart when we're Harry?"

"Sorry, George—."

"I'm only yanking your wand, I'm Fred really—."

"Enough messing around!" Mood shouted crossly, glaring at both Harrys. "The other one—George or Fred or whoever you are—you're with Remus."

Fred and George looked at each other and grinned mischievously. If they were going to face danger and probable death they were at least going to have fun first. Hell, what fun is risking your life if you can't enjoy it?

Without putting up any more fuss—Mrs. Weasley was quite flustered as it was and they were sure that if they _did_ pull anything more then their death would no longer be only _probable_—Fred and George mounted their rides behind their Order members.

"Good luck, everyone," Moody shouted, glancing around at everyone for one last time. "See you all in about an hour at the Burrow. On the count of three. One…two…THREE."


End file.
